Cafe Bonheur
by Solitary Shadow
Summary: A simple lunchtime break isn't that simple at all, especially with two particular boxers involved. Twoshot, slash, Glass Joe x Von Kaiser. I've done it again. x.x It's finished now.
1. Alors, Tu M'aimes?

**Disclaimer:** Punch-Out belongs to Nintendo. So does the boxers (except for Tyson, but hey) in the games.

**Author's Note:** Oh God why am I spewing out this stuff like mad. I can't seem to stop writing this. This was originally meant to be a quick oneshot, but it evolved into something bigger during the process. Posting everything into one would equal in a massive tl;dr that is terribly uninteresting. The whole fic details events throughout an hour and a half, and is reasonably slow paced. The next half of the story will be posted soon.

Everything is bit more cutesy here. I've tried to keep the boxers in character most of the time - but they're portrayed so stereotypically in the games that it's quite hard to put them into a casual situation. Even '_Je Souhaite_' had a patriotic moment in it. x.x It seems that so far, the only character I can pull off is Glass Joe. I keep writing Von Kaiser in a way-too-nice manner. And we all know that he's not a softie at all. x.x The more slashy bits come in much later in the second chapter, but there's nothing graphic. I can assure you that. xD That would be entirely too awkward.

Despite learning French for five years, my French is still rather limping. I apologize for any grammatical/language errors in either German or French.

Read on. Feel free to flame if you hate it. (waits again for flames)

* * *

Lazy afternoons were better spent at home with a nice cup of coffee or tea in hand. At least, that was what one particular man thought as he walked across the busy roads into a semi-secluded cafe, ready for his usual afternoon cup of coffee; if he couldn't go home just yet, he would at least find himself somewhere to drink in peace.

The cafe was old. No doubt about it. It had been open for around a decade or so, and with the ever-changing lifestyle in New York that was a very long time for such a small place to stay open. It wasn't as if the cafe had a particularly good decor or in a good location, either - it had stayed open because there had always been a steady stream of customers, and that was it. The only major thing that made this cafe different from most others was the fact that it was actually run by a French couple; they had owned a similar business in Paris previously and they knew what they were doing. As a result, the place had become a kind of haven for the more adventurous, with the couple taking orders in both English and French. The food was delicious and reasonably cheap as well (the joys of their freshly-baked croissants!), which was why this particular customer favoured this cafe for his daily afternoon breaks. He was ever so familiar with it, because he was a Parisian himself.

He was known as Glass Joe.

"_Bonjour_," he called out as he pushed open the door and went inside - there seemed to be very few customers around, for many people ate their lunch at a later time. The male owner looked out, smiling at the sight of his regular customer.

"_Bienvenue! Vous __êtes__ ici pour un tasse de caf__é__, oui_?"

"_Honnêtement,__ non_," he replied with an apologetic smile. "_est-ce que je peux avoir un 'mont blanc' avec un morceau du gâteau, s'il vous plaît?_"

The owner looked at the menu for a second before he smiled pleasantly. "_Oui, oui! Est-ce que vous voulez vous asseoir d'exterieur_?"

"_C'est une bonne __idée. Merci beaucoup_."

Glass Joe, having finished ordering his lunch, made his way outside by the back door and chose a secluded spot to sit in. It was a round table with three mahogany seats around it, and carefully hidden by a wooden screen and a hedge from the cafe windows and the busy streets. This was usually his favourite spot to sit in when the weather was good; it allowed him to sit and lazily watch the world pass by for an hour or two, while he himself remained mostly invisible. Of course, anyone who was tall enough could easily see through this facade, but he wasn't worrying about that now. Who would even bother doing that? He leaned back and relaxed in the warmth of the sun, waiting for the food to arrive. Lunch breaks were times to be enjoyed and he was in no hurry.

And when he was in no hurry, he loved to think.

How was his condition for the day? Fine. He still had a few bruises that lingered from his fight just over three days ago, but they no longer ached as much. Did he have any matches he needed to attend? No, he had merely came to the WVBA building to train and build up his stamina. He was going to continue with his training after lunch, but he was not running on a strict schedule and he could spare himself an hour or two. He gazed lazily around his surroundings, noting how soft the breeze was; it cooled him down, but it wasn't too strong. All was good. The scent of cakes and coffee was intoxicating; he breathed in the scent, sighing in satisfaction.

Five minutes after he began contemplating his daily life, the owner arrived with a slice of plain sponge cake, covered in strawberry icing. He apologized for the absence of the other item that Glass Joe had ordered, explaining that it took quite a long while to make - the French boxer simply smiled and accepted this with good grace. After the owner had gone, he carefully adjusted the plate so that the part with the icing faced away from him; he then picked up his fork, ready to savour the cake slowly.

He never would have guessed that this would be easier said than done.

Glass Joe had just sliced off the first bit of his cake when he heard a soft mewing sound below him. Glancing down in surprise, he found that a small ginger tabby cat was gazing up at him, rubbing against his leg and mewing plaintively; it seemed barely over three months old. He smiled softly, reaching down to pat its back gently.

"_Bonjour_," he greeted, despite knowing that it was probably used to hearing English. "_qui es-tu, minou_?"

Another mew.

"_Je ne t'avais jamais vu_."

When the cat pawed at his leg, he bent down and picked it up, setting it down on his lap. It seemed relatively tame, sitting calm and relaxed, looking up at the Frenchman with bright green eyes; it also seemed clean and well-groomed, despite having no collar or tag indicating ownership around its neck. He petted it softly with his right hand, coaxing it gently, and it rolled over, inviting him to rub its belly. Laughing, he tickled the cat lightly on the stomach, causing it to mewl and nudge his side lightly with its head.

"_Tu as faim?_"

The cat tilted its head to the side, a questioning look on its face. Glass Joe smiled, and reached out for the slice of cake; he broke off a small bit and held it out to the cat, feeding it little slithers of icing. The Frenchman laughed as it licked his finger clean, finding the tickling sensation pleasant.

"So you've met the resident _Katze_, have you?" a familiar voice called from nearby. Glass Joe looked up, startled, seeing the one person he hadn't expected to be passing by this particular cafe - the man in question was gazing at him, obviously highly amused. "never knew you had a soft spot for them."

"... Monsieur Von Kaiser!" the Frenchman exclaimed as he recovered from the shock. What was he doing here? Von Kaiser was the very last person one would expect to be passing by such a relaxed cafe. "what..."

The German boxer did not bother with giving any other reply, and merely gestured for him to wait. Von Kaiser's well-polished boots clicked on the pavement as he walked into the cafe, quickly ordered himself something and then out again, sitting down opposite Glass Joe. He was wearing his suspenders, a collared shirt and a flat cap that matched his deep reddish-brown hair; his mustache was also trimmed magnificently, and he had never looked so orderly and well-groomed before. He held a newspaper under his arm, obviously having had intentions to read it in the cafe. The sleeves on his shirt were rolled back, revealing taut muscled arms; his back remained straight and tall as he sat, and he gazed down at the younger man with some curiosity. "_Guten Tag_. You're a regular customer here, I presume?"

"Eh? _M - moi_?" Glass Joe stumbled over his words, French slipping out rather unceremoniously; he quickly composed himself and answered. "well, I do come here most days... so yes, I believe so, Monsieur."

"Now was that so hard a question?" the older man asked, sounding more amused than anything, and he smiled rather crookedly. It was not the kind of smile one could see often, nor one that people could think beautiful - but it was oddly charming at the same time. "and I swear you'll always call me '_Monsieur_' instead of '_Herr_'. _Das ist mir recht_," he raised a hand to silence the other when he showed signs of interrupting. "if you insist on doing so, I have no intentions of stopping you. What interests me is the way you've befriended that _Katze_ so quickly."

Glass Joe looked down at the small cat on his lap. "He approached me mere minutes ago... he seemed unafraid, so I picked him up. That was all."

"_She_ likes you," Von Kaiser corrected. "I've never seen her take to anyone so fast. She's often around this time of the day, so I've seen her numerous times. I'm guessing you usually come at a later time?"

"I do indeed."

"Here, let me hold her for a few minutes," Glass Joe complied and picked up the ginger tabby in his hands, smiling upon hearing her squeal slightly - she didn't appreciate being picked up so quickly in such an ungraceful manner. Von Kaiser took her gently, gathering up the cat's back legs and letting her rest comfortably in his arms; this move was so unusual for the German that Glass Joe couldn't help but stare. He had never known the older man to be so gentle with anything. Von Kaiser was a man who was normally calm, but couldn't keep his temper in check and resorted to assaulting a punching bag or an unfortunate fellow boxer when everything became too much; but here he was, sitting in a cafe, letting a cat sit in his arms and looking remotely harmless. Perhaps after years of harshness and hostility, the cat had come as a temporary (but nevertheless welcome) companion to Von Kaiser - cats didn't ask awkward questions, jeer or made Nazism-related remarks. All those were traits that many boxers in the WVBA _didn't _have.

Von Kaiser was speaking as he looked down at the cat in his arms: "have you fed her? She seems very content."

Glass Joe thought for a moment - surely a scrap of icing and a small bit off a slice of cake didn't count as _feeding_ - before answering the question. "_Non_. I only gave her a few crumbs and some icing, but that was all."

"Someone must have fed her," the German boxer replied, stroking the cat's back a few times before letting her down on the ground. She went off, chasing a butterfly in the air, darting between chairs and tables. "she's such a friendly one. I don't even think that she belongs to the owners, but she's been fine ever since I saw her for the first time."

"So is she like... _un chat vagabond_? A stray?"

"I doubt it," Von Kaiser answered. "she's too well groomed. Perhaps others take care of her and feed her when she's hungry. It's a good thing." he leaned back casually, gazing at Glass Joe from underneath the brim of his cap. This cool gesture set the younger man's pulse racing; he looked away quickly, distracting himself with the view before he gave away anything. He was still stunned at the fact that Von Kaiser was sitting with him, making conversation in a highly laid-back manner; although he was the last person that Glass Joe had ever expected to sit down with for lunch, he had to admit that the older man's presence was pleasing.

Glass Joe had always secretly admired Von Kaiser from a distance. The man was one place above him in the rankings - not a very high place, but he was still higher up than the Frenchman and that was that. Everything about Von Kaiser was unique and wonderful to him - his accent, his blunt to-the-point logic, even his posture. There was a highly militaristic air around the German boxer that often intimidated and repelled others, but the Frenchman found it surprisingly attractive. He liked it that there was someone who was actually organized and methodical within the chaotic world of the WVBA. Glass Joe knew that Von Kaiser had been in the German military, serving first as a soldier and then a boxing instructor - that was probably why he was so disciplined and formal at most times, and not to mention wonderfully _masculine_. Although he was often cold and uncaring (especially for children), the younger man knew that there was a softer side to him that he only showed at certain times. Not to mention that the German was four years his senior - he was the oldest boxer in the WVBA, but definitely more charismatic than some others. Glass Joe had someone to look up to in that sense - both of them were older compared to the other boxers, and the Frenchman was glad that he and Von Kaiser were side-by-side.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Von Kaiser asked, looking at the Frenchman oddly; the younger man seemed to have drifted off into his own little world. Glass Joe looked up, startled, before he ducked his head and started on his cake. "you seem thoughtful this afternoon."

"No, I was just..." the younger man faltered as he found himself at a loss for words. "never mind."

Just how had he gotten himself into this?

* * *

"Is that nice?" Von Kaiser asked without much emphasis, looking up from the newspaper and pointing at the slice of cake as Glass Joe made his way through it. The Frenchman had eaten almost three-quarters of it by then; he looked up, still chewing.

"Mmm," Glass Joe mumbled, being too polite to open his mouth when eating.

The German boxer gave him an odd glance and looked back down at his newspaper, skimming through many articles. It appeared that now that he had Glass Joe next to him, he wasn't too comfortable with reading it; either that, or what was happening in the world at that time was of no interest to him. He finally folded it in half and placed it on the spare chair, leaning back and tapping his fingers casually against the tabletop.

"Would you like some cake?" Glass Joe asked suddenly, trying to break the silence. He mentally cursed himself for saying something so strange; what would Von Kaiser think? Where had that offer come from anyway? It was one thing offering a full slice of cake to someone, but another thing entirely offering an almost-eaten piece.

Von Kaiser looked at him with relatively little expression, giving the younger boxer some relief; at least he wasn't laughing. "What flavour is it? Strawberry?"

"_Oui_."

"_Nein, danke_," the German boxer replied, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. "I'd prefer coffee."

They were interrupted from further conversation by the male owner of the cafe returning with a tray on his hand. He placed down a cup of coffee, complete with a milk pot and suger bowl on front of Von Kaiser, greeting him in English; Glass Joe was served a tall glass of what looked like vast amounts of cream, drizzled lightly with chocolate syrup. He exchanged a small conversation with the owner in French, thanking him for the dessert, before the owner went away to serve yet another customer.

"What would that be?" Von Kaiser gestured towards the creamy dessert; Glass Joe smiled and picked up his spoon at the indication.

"It's what we call a _'Mont Blanc'_," he explained. "a blend of chestnut and whipped cream on a meringue base, named after the mountain itself. It's very sweet... and I daresay fattening, but hardworking boxers like us can indulge, _non_?"

The German boxer eyed the dessert, looking distinctly unimpressed. "_Creme_, hmm? Then I must agree with you. That looks too sweet for my taste."

Glass Joe raised his eyebrows, feeling rather surprised despite himself. Since when had he started commenting on the sweetness of food? Von Kaiser usually didn't eat very much, preferring to keep himself in shape, but he was known for eating rather heartily a couple of hours before every match. At those times, he usually didn't seem to care what he ate, as long as it gave him enough energy to keep him going. He had also used to eat a great deal of chocolate if he was in no situation to get himself a meal before his match - something that he'd stopped recently. It was not for reasons of health; Von Kaiser had just stopped when Aran Ryan had made a scathing comment about that habit, remarking that it was too similar to what Little Mac's trainer did ('Fraternizing with the enemy, _Herr_ Von Kaiser?'). And Glass Joe knew all too well how the German boxer loathed the young man ('the _verdammt_ boy', he would say) ever since losing to him in one of the most humiliating fights of his life.

But enough of that. Von Kaiser seemed to have cut all ties with sweet things, and he couldn't help but wonder if the older man had eliminated all such foodstuffs from his normal diet. From what he knew, German cuisine nearly always had something sweet after every meal. And Von Kaiser was one person who kept strictly to tradition.

"_Comment ça se fait? _Aren't there sweets and desserts you like? Such as... um, German chocolate cake? That's traditional, _non_?"

"_Ein Fehler_," Von Kaiser replied nonchalantly, sipping his coffee. "German chocolate cake is not of German origin. It is a simple misnomer."

The Frenchman opened his mouth to argue, but soon shut it again as he saw the pointlessness in doing such a thing. After all, Glass Joe was no expert on German food; sure, he could argue for hours regarding food in France, but right now it was German cuisine they were discussing. Von Kaiser, being a native Berliner himself, knew far too much about the subject matter and Glass Joe was only too aware of this.

"It's still a lovely cake," he mumbled, just for the sake of saying something.

"Yes, if one likes sweet things," Von Kaiser replied in the same tone as before. "but it has nothing to do with _die_ _Deutsch_. And I'm not a fan of desserts."

"But If _I_ asked you, Monsieur, then would you have something sweet?" Glass Joe asked, half desperate to get a positive answer from the German boxer for once.

Von Kaiser looked at him expressionlessly. "Perhaps."

"What if I asked you _politely_?"

"Politeness is a virtue, _nein_? Perhaps I can let that one pass - but nothing too sweet."

The younger man smiled brightly at this reply - bright enough to make the other man vaguely uncomfortable - and spooned up the Mont Blanc, taking care to get in as much chestnut in there as possible. "_Bien_, for that I am glad. You get the first spoonful, Monsieur," Glass Joe held the spoon up to the other's mouth. "do go ahead. The chestnuts aren't too sweet - and you did promise."

"But I don't _like_ desserts, I tell you," Von Kaiser protested, but the Frenchman wouldn't back down. After a few more seconds of protesting, the older boxer saw no point in arguing any further - he gave in and very reluctantly opened his mouth, letting the younger man push the spoon between his lips. A rich, sweet taste, mingled with the savoury taste of chestnuts, made its way to his senses; it was overwhelming, and he sat still, savouring the taste. His expression remained mostly unreadable - but then he grimaced ever so slightly as he realized just how sweet the Mont Blanc really was. He'd also remembered what he'd allowed Glass Joe to do, which made him feel both ashamed and strangely excited at the same time; a slight blush was rising on his cheeks, but he doubted if anyone would notice it.

"Are you all right, Monsieur?" Glass Joe asked, sounding worried.

Von Kaiser didn't reply for a minute.

"_Süß_..." he finally muttered. "... that's... _too_ sweet."

The Frenchman stared at him for a while - and then began to laugh.

"_Vôtre visage_!" he exclaimed, the spoon held loosely between his fingers as he laughed; Von Kaiser gave him an irritated glance. "if the chestnuts were too sweet for you, I'd hate to imagine what you'd think about the meringue!"

The older man rolled his eyes in annoyance. He almost blurted out something to Glass Joe, berating the Frenchman for laughing at him - he loathed being laughed at in any way. But for reasons he didn't quite know himself, he held his tongue.

It just felt as if that was the right thing to do.


	2. Oui, Je T'aime

**Author's Note:** Okay, here's the second chapter. It's done now.

Cafe Bonheur is actually a real place. Of course, it's not located in New York City - it's the name of the cafe I used to go to when I was living in South Korea. That cafe opened under the name 'JJ' when I was four years old and changed its name sometime - we used to go there for light meals, and later on, I usually went there to get myself some iced chocolate drinks and pastries. Mmmmm. The last time I've been there was five years ago... I have no idea whether it's still open, but it did do well for almost a whole decade and it always had loads of customers. Things change though. It makes me feel nostalgic and vaguely sad to think of the cafe. It was such a soothing place.

I really liked writing this part of the story, but I have to admit that Joe's thoughts and feelings were a pain to get down. There were just too many of them that I could think of. x.x But I'm happy with the way it turned out, so... yay. Von Kaiser is also more blunt and aggressive here, and I think I've done a slightly better job this time writing him.

This chapter is where the real slash is at. You have been warned.

* * *

"The French do love their food," Von Kaiser said as he skimmed through the menu. "... they've got six entries just for the types of baguette they carry."

Glass Joe laughed, working his way steadily through his Mont Blanc. He had eaten most of the chestnut topping and was starting on the meringue. "There used to be one more on that menu, Monsieur. It was taken off around a few months ago. But it's still available... any well-knowing person can order it in person."

"Why is that?"

"It's nothing too special - just a much rounder variation of the long baguette. It tastes exactly the same. But it was taken off the menu because it is considered an inferior form of baguette after all - and because of what we call it in France. They thought it might cause offense around here."

The older man leaned forwards, a spark of interest in his gaze. "Oh? So what do you call it?"

"I don't want to say it," Glass Joe protested softly, but mischief was gleaming in his eyes. "you'd never forgive me if I told you."

"_Ach_! What's this? Glass Joe refusing my request?" Von Kaiser exclaimed. "you can tell me. I won't do anything to you."

The Frenchman looked around, checking if there were any listeners amongst the customers; there was none, as they were the only ones outside at that time. "Well... we call that particular shape a '_bâtard_', Monsieur."

"Which means?"

Glass Joe laughed half to himself. His eyes were dancing in both delight and a kind of dark enjoyment as he gazed at the German boxer; he leaned over to whisper in the other's ear: "It means '_bastard_'. So now you understand."

Von Kaiser sat in stunned silence for a moment or two, surprised that Glass Joe (polite, gentle _Glass Joe_ of all people) could say such a thing - before he suddenly burst out laughing. "You French have the strangest sense of humour! I like that! So I assume that nearly every person knows such a word from a very early age?"

"Precisely," Glass Joe chuckled. "when the French send their children out to get some _bâtard _from the local _boulangerie_... ah, my country is _adorable_ from time to time, wouldn't you agree?" he said this with pride, finding the situation just as humorous as Von Kaiser.

The older man smirked. "Oh? I bet I can find a dozen examples of Germany being just as adorable," but he wasn't looking for a patriotic comparison, and his carefree tone clearly indicated that. Glass Joe merely smiled at him again, and carried on eating his Mont Blanc.

"This cafe has a strange name," Von Kaiser said, looking up where the name of the cafe was spelled out. "_Cafe... Bonheur_. I always wondered what that meant. Care to translate for me?"

"'_Bonheur'_ means 'happiness'. Quite appropriate."

The German boxer chuckled at this. "Indeed! That seems to be true. I must admit, until I met you here, I don't recall having laughed so much in a long time," he winked slightly at the younger man. "perhaps we should meet up more often. I think I like having you around."

Glass Joe couldn't believe it. Von Kaiser wanted _him_ around? Sure, Von Kaiser was more gentle towards him than any other boxer, having known Glass Joe for a longer number of years; but when in the presence of other boxers, he was usually too engaged in a patriotic debate to notice the younger man. When he was contemplating something, he usually shut out everybody else, Glass Joe included. There was no particular interest there. But now -

"You do realize that you've got some _creme_ on your face?"

"Eh?" Glass Joe looked up, surprised at this sudden remark; but when he quickly gazed at his reflection on the spoon, he could see that this was true. "oh... I'll... take care of that."

But Von Kaiser acted before the Frenchman could get himself a napkin. The German boxer reached across the table and wiped the smudge of cream off his cheek with his index finger, licking it off afterwards. "Waste not, want not," he remarked with a small grin. "charming phrase, don't you agree? Those Americans and their idioms!"

The Frenchman stared at him for a few seconds, not even attempting to hide the blush on his face - was Von Kaiser _flirting_ with him?

Come to think of it, Von Kaiser had been like this to him for some months now. His previous thought about the older man ignoring him only applied to situations in which they were in the presence of other boxers. It was more different when they were alone. Of course, nothing had been said from him, and he didn't seem to notice the younger man too much; but there were incidents when Glass Joe had stumbled into the changing rooms, beaten up and bruised, only to find the German boxer waiting with a basin of cold water, ice and a towel. He would leave straight after Glass Joe came in, giving him some privacy and time to clean himself and make himself somewhat presentable. No other boxer did that. And there were moments when they were sitting together in a room, maintaining boxing equipment in silence - in those moments, they inevitably had to help each other by passing around things that the other needed. He would sometimes ask Von Kaiser for a wrench or something-or-another, and he swore that the German boxer often prolonged their contact by touching his hand a second longer than necessary. Von Kaiser was also the only boxer in the WVBA who looked at him straight in the eyes, not caring about the bruises and cuts that frequently marred the Frenchman's face. It was evident that he cared far more than the others.

He had to admit that he'd never quite thought about the older man as handsome - or even good looking. Von Kaiser was vastly emotionless when inside the WVBA building, preferring to keep himself looking cool and professional more than anything else, so it was to be expected that nobody ever saw him laughing or smiling. He was usually frowning more than anything, either in contemplation or just plain irritated. But here he was, smiling quite freely at Glass Joe, and the Frenchman could quite clearly see that he was relatively good looking for a forty-two year old man. Had he not been in the military (Von Kaiser had a slight facial tic caused by harsh training and injury) and had he chosen a less violent profession, he might have been even handsomer than now. His mustache gave him even more character; and with typical German efficiency Von Kaiser trimmed and waxed his mustache every morning. It made him look dignified and unique amongst the others.

And just how did he know all those things? The sheer amount of information that he possessed about the German man - some of them distinctly personal - stunned Glass Joe. He'd been subconciously observing and noting Von Kaiser's behaviour over the years; was that why he found himself attracted to the older man? Von Kaiser had now displayed affection for him in public as well-

But he shouldn't misjudge. It was perfectly possible that Von Kaiser was just being kind to him, not flirting. The German boxer wasn't exactly that type of person.

The Frenchman had almost finished the Mont Blanc by this time; he scooped up the very last spoonful, savouring it slowly as he let the concoction melt on his tongue. He felt the German boxer's eyes on him, scanning his form and watching every action, and smiled inwardly as he thought of an idea. Making sure that Von Kaiser's attention was fixed on him alone, Glass Joe picked up the spoon again and slowly began to lick it clean, only throwing him a sideways glance every few seconds or so. He heard Von Kaiser inhale sharply at the sight, obviously taken by surprise at this unexpected display of seduction; from his posture, Glass Joe could quite clearly see that he was trying to hold himself back. It was perhaps for the best if he stopped now, for even he didn't know what might happen if he carried on. The Frenchman put down the spoon and sat there somewhat meekly, not meeting the German boxer's gaze, wondering if he had gone too far.

"Look," Von Kaiser finally said, breaking the silence. "what are you trying to say?"

"... What do you mean?"

"Throughout this conversation you have been puzzling me," the German boxer said. It only struck Glass Joe later that he had been talking in a careful, slow monotone in order to hide his emotions. "what do you want from me? I would really prefer it if you just said what you want instead of all this... _hinting_. Do you want me to kiss you? Do you want to sleep with me? _What_?" he ignored Glass Joe's furious blush at his blunt remark, and continued on. "I am not a man of much patience. Tell me what you want."

Glass Joe said nothing for a while. He'd completely misread the older man; he'd only succeeded in confusing the German boxer instead of making his intentions obvious. So had Von Kaiser not been flirting with him at all? After all, the man was famous for being the oldest bachelor in the WVBA; there must be a reason why he remained so. He either had no interest in a relationship with anyone, or was incapable of such feelings. It looked as if Glass Joe had hit upon the exact reason now.

"But would you be offended if I told you, Monsieur?" he uttered, his voice soft and almost resigned; Von Kaiser didn't fail to pick up on this, and leaned back, still looking at the other man. His gaze remained as stoic as ever, but his eyes had softened ever so slightly.

"I will not promise anything," the German boxer replied in an equally gentle voice. "I have no wish to give you false hopes by promising that I won't be offended, but I also do not want you withdrawing from me. All I want now is to hear about what you want of me and nothing more. _Das reicht_. I will make up my mind after you finish talking - there is no point in judging prematurely, _ja_?"

Logic. Of course. The whole thing was just so absurdly logical that Glass Joe almost laughed; Von Kaiser was one of the most rational (and sometimes just downright unemotional) people he had ever met, and he really should have expected such a reaction. But how was he going to react to an emotional issue? That was the problem - the Frenchman wanted to talk about what he felt around the older man, but he had a feeling that it wasn't going to go down well. Von Kaiser did not take well to emotions, whether his or other people's.

But he couldn't just sit there and say nothing either.

"It's hard to say," Glass Joe finally started. "I don't exactly know how to explain, Monsieur, although God knows I will try..."

"Go ahead."

The Frenchman took a deep breath before he begun. "Monsieur, you do know that we have been together in the Association for years. You were always there, always one place above me. And I've watched you training and fighting for a very long time. For a couple of years now - because we've been side-by-side for so long, I hoped that you would become more gentle towards me. _Oui_, and you _are_," he paused slightly. "you've never abused me nor made any comments regarding my skills. _Mon Dieu_, if only I can say the same for the likes of the others! But that's not the point. What I want to say is... well..."

"Yes?" Von Kaiser said, his voice kept to that familiar monotone.

"Well... because we've been together for so long, and perhaps because you're older than me, I believe my respect for you has grown into... something more. I have always respected you, Monsieur, for both your fighting skills and your personality. You've always been one of the most ambitious boxers I've ever seen. The ones at the top, they get replaced ever so quickly... but we've stood by all those years, _non_?"

"You're correct about the champions getting replaced," Von Kaiser interrupted. "Sandman... he was beaten by Little Mac, was he not? Just a few days ago? If there's one thing I have to say for that infernal little brat, he's undoubtedly skilled. As for us... I suppose that is true."

Glass Joe nodded. "_Pr__é__cisément_. I wasn't trying to offend you, Monsieur, when I was finishing my Mont Blanc. I admire you..." he faltered for a moment before he spoke in an almost-whisper, "... I admire you much more than you think. So much more."

Von Kaiser nodded, looking pensive.

"So you _do_ want to be with me?"

The Frenchman gave no direct reply, but looked at him for a long while before he suddenly made his move. He leaned over and whispered in the older man's ear: "Please forgive me."

Glass Joe acted surprisingly fast, giving Von Kaiser no time to answer; he grabbed the other man by his shoulders, and taking care to turn their backs from the outside view, just leaned over and kissed him. It was a firm kiss, but rather awkward and cool to the touch; and it only lasted around ten seconds before Glass Joe pulled back. His face was flushed and he held an apologetic glance in his eyes - Von Kaiser had not reacted once during the kiss, and he merely stared blankly at the Frenchman, saying nothing.

"I - I'm sorry..."

But the younger man's apology was soon ignored as Von Kaiser leaned towards him, a strange glint in his eyes.

"Shut _up_..." he murmured, and then with a sudden, savage agility pulled Glass Joe close to him, pressing his lips to his in a rough kiss. This one was passionate beyond bounds and somehow more enjoyable, despite the fact that Von Kaiser was holding the other man hard enough to bruise the skin; Glass Joe could do nothing but close his eyes, surrendering himself to the pleasure. Von Kaiser's lips burned into his; the former was extremely demanding when it came to kisses, and Glass Joe had to admit that he liked it that way. The older man pulled away from his lips, only to make his way across his jawline, pressing firm kisses here and there.

"Not - not there!" the Frenchman whimpered as he felt the pressure on his fragile jaw grow stronger. "please, not there!"

Von Kaiser offered no reply, but moved down slightly to nuzzle against Glass Joe's neck and shoulder in a strangely affectionate way. His mustache tickled; the younger man squirmed and protested softly, but made no attempts to free himself. He loved the sensation, loved the whole fact that Von Kaiser was embracing him, and he wasn't quite ready to let him go. But the more reasonable part of his mind told him that they'd better stop now - they were in plain view from the streets and inside the cafe. Far too visible for his taste.

"Stop," Glass Joe whispered, placing his hands on the German's chest, attempting to push him away gently. "_Les gens_... they might see..."

"I didn't think that you cared when you kissed me first," Von Kaiser answered, mischief gleaming in his eyes; but he did comply and pulled away (albeit reluctantly). Glass Joe couldn't help but feel rather regretful when the other man pulled back - had they been alone, he would never have resisted. "now that you've told me your side of the story... I must tell mine. I've watched you for the longest time, you know. For almost five years. You always seemed so determined... I've seen champions retire after only one or two losses, unable to handle their defeat, but you always kept on going. That is what I like about you," he then grinned, which was a rare thing for him to do. "not to mention that I quite like your face. You're not bad looking at all - even when you're bruised all over. I should know, I've been near you for years..."

Glass Joe's eyes widened. "So... does this mean..."

Von Kaiser chuckled. "Don't tell me you didn't notice the signs I was sending you. I believe our whole conversation so far has been an array of those... _hints_, shall we call it? I certainly picked up on yours."

"I thought you didn't like me, Monsieur... not in that way."

"Your ability to read verbal implications is questionable," Von Kaiser breathed softly, his gaze oddly alluring. "I did say I wanted you around more often, did I not? I didn't just say that for a joke. I'm not young anymore, but I'm not incapable of having feelings for another."

"But... you asked me what I wanted from you, _non_? Why did you do that, when you already knew?"

Von Kaiser laughed. "You know what I'm like - I wanted to make sure. You _were_ being rather vague and I wouldn't have wanted to embarrass either of us. But maybe I should have just made my move, instead of interrogating you. I apologize - I'm a scoundrel, _nein_?"

"Not so much as Aran Ryan," Glass Joe replied, a soft smile finally curving his lips. He leaned forwards slightly, meeting the other's eyes with more confidence. "I... I think I like you more like this. _Plus agressif._ It's what I'm used to seeing you as."

The German boxer raised his eyebrows, looking bemused. "That's how you like me, hmm? Want to see how much more _agressiv_ I can get?"

Glass Joe frowned slightly at those words, vaguely embarrassed. "Monsieur, I really must-"

Von Kaiser had moved already. He leaned forwards, gazing deeply into the other's eyes, calculating his next move; Glass Joe stared back, mentally willing himself not to be afraid. Even though Von Kaiser had admitted his feelings just now, he still didn't really know what the older man was thinking at the best of times. The Frenchman closed his eyes and tried to relax as the other's lips descended onto his, pressing lightly, the kiss being velvet-soft this time. All kisses should feel like that one, he thought to himself vaguely, before Von Kaiser grabbed him roughly and the kiss turned more fierce. The German boxer grasped the back of the other's head in a possessive gesture, making sure that he couldn't wriggle free. He had the Frenchman trapped in his embrace and that was the way it would stay. He pressed on the other's lips with his tongue, demanding access; it was granted without hesitation. Admittedly, he didn't have much idea how it was supposed to be done, but just the feeling of touching Glass Joe's tongue with his own proved to be sensual. He forced his way in, pinning the other's tongue down and tasting the slightest hint of cream in the process; a soft moan escaped the Frenchman as the older man's fingers toyed with his hair.

Glass Joe had not moved once during the kiss, knowing that any resistance was going to be futile; Von Kaiser was much stronger than him and it was useless to think he could escape. There was a certain scent around the older man, a mixture of coffee, boot polish and the faintest hint of musk - it was that _male_ scent that he found rather alluring. He opened his eyes slightly, checking for any passers-by or cafe patrons who might have been gaping at them; but he found that in the pleasure and the strength of Von Kaiser's embrace, the world had become blurry. He stared at the German man, dazed, the view slowly coming back into focus as the kiss broke. Von Kaiser let his tongue brush lightly against Glass Joe's lips as he pulled back.

"I kiss a_ lot _better than you," he whispered, before running his hands over the Frenchman's chest and slipping ever so discreetly under his shirt. Glass Joe flinched and whimpered slightly, looking around in a panic. No one was watching, at least not yet; their backs were turned from the outside view and there seemed to be _less_ customers in the cafe, if anything. "don't be so nervous. Nobody's watching."

"But... I..." Glass Joe was silenced as Von Kaiser ran a large, warm hand over the bare skin of his chest, skimming lightly over the muscles. He gasped at the touch and the jolt of pleasure that traveled up his spine; the German boxer smirked and withdrew his hand, opting to nuzzle and nip lightly at the skin of the other's neck. He was willing to be mischievous, but not to make Glass Joe uncomfortable. It wasn't wise to get too physical right now - after all, the Frenchman had only made his move some minutes ago. He would wait - waiting was what he was good at - and take it slow.

"I apologize if I've hurt you," Von Kaiser said quietly, hoping that the other wouldn't run away from him. Glass Joe looked up at those words; and the older man was surprised to see that he was actually blushing, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"That's... how I like you," he said. "but... not in public... not just yet."

The ginger cat had come back; she mewed softly to indicate her presence, and jumped up to the younger boxer's lap. Glass Joe stroked her absent-mindedly, still partly in disbelief over what had happened. He'd never imagined that Von Kaiser would _respond_ to him, let alone kiss him; yet in the space of an hour and a half or so, everything had changed. He briefly dwelt on an image of the other boxers, who had previously ignored and laughed at both of them, suddenly wearing an expression of utter shock and disbelief after watching them kiss - and then burst out laughing. This startled the little cat, causing her to look up sharply and stare at him.

"What's so funny?" Von Kaiser asked, raising one eyebrow - what a charming little gesture! - inquisitively. Glass Joe shook his head and stroked the cat in his arms; he wasn't smiling, but his eyes danced with delight as he gazed at the older man.

"I was just wondering, Monsieur... could we meet up again for lunch tomorrow?" he dared to ask, sounding hopeful.

Von Kaiser nodded. "I see no reason why we can't. As long as I'm kept happy with your presence, I believe I will be content."

"Well, this is the _Cafe Bonheur_, after all," the Frenchman said. "as a regular customer, I must try to live up to the name, _oui_? I'd do anything if it made you happy, Monsieur."

Von Kaiser looked at him, straight in the eyes. "You honestly mean that?"

"_Oui_, I do."

"_Völlig alles_?" the German asked again, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "absolutely anything, you say?"

"Anything," Glass Joe repeated softly, an indulgent smile on his face, his gaze seductive. "anything at all, as long as the request is simple."

Von Kaiser smirked.

"Then you can pay for my coffee."

He swiftly leaned over to brush a kiss on the Frenchman's lips, stood up and then walked away with a smile and a sidelong glance. Within seconds he was gone, lost amongst the busy crowds, making his way back to the WVBA building.

Glass Joe just sat there, stunned at what had happened, before he suddenly snickered to himself. Oh, he would pay Von Kaiser back for this sometime. "_Touch__é_."

Meanwhile, oblivious to everything that had occurred, the ginger cat purred and snuggled into his chest.


End file.
